Snow Baby

by Brenda Novak

  She opened her mouth to welcome his tongue, surprised that the small cut she’d received in the accident didn’t bother her, and he deepened the kiss until the warmth blooming in her belly began to spread out to her limbs. He tasted the way his breath smelled, like spearmint gum, she thought lazily, and began exploring his mouth. Circling his neck with her arms, she let her hands delve into the thickness of his dark hair, threading the short silky locks through her fingers, tugging him closer.

  When she groaned, he made an identical sound in his throat, and quickened the pace of their kiss until Chantel was so hungry for more she was shaking. She shifted, pressing her body more fully against him, then gasped when his large rough palm clutched her breast.

  Two fingers flicked across her nipple as he trailed kisses down her throat, whispering how wonderful she felt and tasted and looked. Chantel arched toward him, wanting him to kiss her breasts.

  He read her need quickly and easily, and responded with an eagerness that made her desire spiral even higher. His mouth clamped on to her nipple, and as his tongue darted and teased and suckled, hot jolts of pleasure went through her. “That’s good,” she murmured.

  He moved to the other breast, and she kneaded his powerful shoulders, reveling in the way his body fit perfectly against hers. Dillon’s size made her feel small for the first time in her adult life. And what he was doing to her—it was so fulfilling. Dillon had already touched something deep inside her, something Wade had never reached.

  “Chantel?” Dillon’s raspy breath tickled her ear as he nuzzled her neck. “Do you want me to stop, Chantel? I know I said I wouldn’t touch you, but I never dreamed it would be so…”

  She wrapped her legs around his so he couldn’t put any space between them. “No, don’t stop,” she whispered.

  “What about birth control?”

  “We don’t have to worry about it.” Chantel swallowed hard, willing back sudden tears. “I can’t have children.”

  He paused above her, as though trying to see her face in the darkness. “The anorexia?”

  “They told me in the hospital that my reproductive system has shut down and will never work properly again. I haven’t had a real period for over a year.” She drew a shaky breath, and then realized she was crying.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, kissing her forehead and her cheeks. “That’s a tough break, especially if you want kids.”

  “There’s nothing like a baby, right?” She tried to sound flippant, but couldn’t stifle the sob that gave her true feelings away.

  The sympathetic tone of Dillon’s voice caressed her as effectively as the fingers that found and wiped away her tears. “There are other good things in life,” he whispered.

  Her arms tightened around his neck. “Show me one, Dillon. Show me this one,” she said, and pulled him down for another mind-numbing kiss.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  IT WAS THE SILENCE that woke him.

  Dillon blinked and raised his head to listen. The wind had died. What time was it? Difficult to tell. The snow piled on top of the truck kept the inside dark, but he’d bet it was morning.

  He shifted slightly, trying not to wake Chantel as he let some of the blood flow back into the arm she was sleeping on. It had been quite a night! He grinned, remembering Chantel’s first warm willing response and the times he’d made love to her since. Sometimes she was a little shy and reserved, sometimes she played the temptress. But the crazy thing was that he couldn’t get enough of her. Even now, just looking at her face, sweet and passive in sleep, he wanted to wake her and lose himself in her arms again.

  “Is the storm over yet?” she asked, her eyelids fluttering open, despite Dillon’s decision to let her sleep.

  “I think so.”

  “Darn.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “What does that mean?”

  “They’ll be coming for us.”

  “Isn’t that what we want?”

  Her large eyes gazed up at him, and he caught his breath. Was it possible to fall in love in only one night?

  “I don’t want reality to intrude,” she complained. Then she sighed. “I have to go see my sister. You have your friends waiting for you.” Her silky limbs wrapped around him again, and she kissed his neck. “Mmm, I guess we got a little sweaty last night. You taste salty.”

  He laughed. “We got a lot sweaty, among other things.”

  “It was incredible, wasn’t it?”

  “Good enough that you won’t forget me before we get home?”

  “How could I forget the man who saved my life?”

  “Hey, that’s right! Doesn’t that make you my slave or something?”

  “No!” She tried to wriggle away, but he restrained her.

  “Come on, slave, I’m getting hungry for more of you…”

  She groaned. “You’re insatiable! Not again! I’m tired.” Running her fingers up and down his spine, she massaged the stiff muscles in his back, then pulled him down for a long searching kiss.

  Dillon savored the taste of her, wishing they were at his place so they could get up and take a hot shower together and eat something. “If we were home, I’d make you breakfast in bed,” he told her.

  “Where’s home?”

  “Lafayette.”

  “We live that close to each other?”

  He ran a hand through his sleep-tousled hair. “Yep. And then, after breakfast, I’d get you in the tub and lather your hair and massage your scalp and lick water off the tips of your breasts…”

  “Hmm…maybe I’m not as tired as I thought,” she said, but before Dillon could take her up on the invitation, they heard some kind of heavy machinery moving toward them.

  Chantel groaned. “A snowplow. They’re here, aren’t they?”

  Dillon listened to the noise get louder and louder as the plow made its way through the heavy snow. “That’s my guess.”

  She sighed and studied him, looking somber for the first time that morning. “I haven’t thanked you for coming back for me, Dillon. Who knows how long I would’ve had to wait before the police found me? I couldn’t even give them good directions. What you did was so brave.”

  He wiggled his brows to make her laugh again. “And I’ve been handsomely rewarded.”

  “Roll over and let me hold you,” she said. “Just until they get here.”

  He obeyed, and she curved her body, spoon-fashion, along the back of his.

  “What are we going to do about clothes?” she asked, the noise of the plow nearly drowning out her voice. “I don’t like the idea of being caught in such a vulnerable position.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll get out and take care of everything. You can stay modestly covered back here.”

  “Thanks, Dillon.”

  “Chantel?”

  “Uh-huh?”

  “Can I call you when we get home?” he asked, half-afraid she’d refuse him for some reason only she knew.

  But a yes sounded in his ear, and he smiled and pulled her arms more tightly around him.

  CHANTEL DREW a deep breath and stared up at the A-frame log cabin that corresponded to the address on the directions Stacy had given her—and wished she was still with Dillon. After all the highs and lows of the past night, she felt physically and emotionally spent. The last thing she wanted to do right now was face her sister.

  If only she hadn’t given her word and could simply head back home—

  “Omigosh, Chantel, what happened to you?” Stacy appeared in the doorway and frowned at the damaged Jaguar. “Now your car doesn’t look any better than my Honda.”

  Chantel gave her a tired grin, feeling awkward and unsure of how to greet her sister. Should she rush over and hug Stacy as though they hadn’t been estranged for ten years? Just smile and wave “hello”?

  Remembering her sister’s cold response the first time Chantel had contacted her—when she’d just returned from New York and had blubbered her way through a painful apology—she opted for the smile and jammed her
hands in her pockets. “Would you believe I got stuck in the storm last night and had to wait for the police to bring a tow and get me out?”

  “Are you kidding? Why didn’t you call me?”

  I’ve been worried. For a split second, Chantel hoped to hear those words, but Stacy didn’t add them. “I drove off without the phone number.” She chuckled, feeling her palms start to sweat and wishing, more than ever, that she could climb back in her car and drive away.

  “Are you okay?”

  I’ve been worried.

  Again the words didn’t come. Chantel clenched her fists in the pockets of her baggy jeans. Her sister would never say anything that indicated that she still cared. Why hope?

  “I think I’ll be better after I shower and have something to eat. Tell me this place has hot water.”

  “It does. Everyone else left to go skiing, so the bathrooms are free.”

  “Oh! I’m sorry if waiting for me made you miss the fun.”

  Stacy paused halfway between the door and the Jaguar. “No, actually I’m expecting someone else. He’ll be here anytime.”

  Chantel felt a blush heat her cheeks. What had she been thinking? She forced a smile. “So you’ve met a guy, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You never mentioned him on the phone.”

  “There wasn’t any reason to go into it. I told you I was inviting a few friends, and I did.”

  “Well, tell me about him,” Chantel said, trying to act like any normal sister would. Besides Stacy’s father, who lived a hermit’s life somewhere in New Mexico, they had no family left. Whether either of them wanted to admit it or not, they needed each other.

  Stacy shrugged. “What do you want to know?”

  “Where did you meet?”

  “At the hospital. We’ve known each other for a couple of years.”

  “He’s a doctor?”

  “No, he was there for a meeting with one of the doctors. He was handling the majority of the tenant improvements for the medical building next door.”

  “And you really like him?”

  For a moment Stacy’s hard shell cracked and she gave Chantel a genuine smile. “Like him! You should see him! I’ve never been so head over heels in love. I’m going to marry this one or die trying.”

  Chantel laughed. “Wow. He must be something. I can’t wait to meet him.”

  The shadow of old pain fell across Stacy’s face, making Chantel regret the simple offhand remark. “Stacy—”

  “I know. You’d better have that shower,” she said briskly. “Let’s take your stuff inside.”

  Trying to remember the warmth and approval she’d felt with Dillon, Chantel focused on his parting kiss and his promise to call her as soon as she arrived home.

  She could do this. She was only staying in Tahoe till Sunday, and thinking of Dillon would get her through the weekend.

  Thinking of Dillon could get her through anything.

  HAD STACY’S BOYFRIEND arrived? Chantel stepped out of the shower and listened for voices in the living room as she pulled on the jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt she’d had her sister toss in the dryer, but heard nothing beyond the distant drone of the television.

  “Stace?” she called out.

  A light step sounded in the hall, and her sister poked her head into the bedroom just as Chantel began to work the snarls out of her long hair. “You done?”

  “Yeah. It felt great. Is your friend here?”

  “Not yet. He called to say he stopped off for a late breakfast. He’ll be here any minute.”

  Chantel smiled at her sister’s barely concealed excitement. “You still want to get married, Stace?”

  “If I want kids, I don’t have a lot of time to waste. I’m already thirty-two.” She fingered Chantel’s expensive leather luggage.

  “That’s only three years older than me.” Only, I don’t have to worry about getting married…or having kids. Instinctively Chantel pressed a hand to her stomach. The ultimate price. She wondered if Stacy would more easily forgive her if she knew, then rejected the idea. She wouldn’t play on her sister’s sympathy. That was cowardly. She’d gotten what she deserved. Wasn’t that what Wade had said the last time she’d seen him?

  For once in his life he’d been right.

  “After age thirty, three years counts for a lot,” Stacy said, plopping down on the bed while Chantel applied lotion to her face.

  “While the rest of us were dreaming of having careers, you always wanted to marry and settle down,” Chantel murmured.

  “Ever since I graduated from high school, but all too often I made the mistake of bringing them home. Then they’d see you.”

  And what had stopped her from finding a husband during the past ten years, while Chantel was in New York?

  Chantel stifled the defensive retort. She didn’t want to start a fight. She was here to rebuild her relationship with Stacy, not destroy it. “I’m sorry, Stace. I can’t understand why anyone would rather be with me than you.”

  Her sister sighed. “Look in the mirror, Chantel. That explains everything.”

  Chantel gazed into the mirror that contrasted her tall lean form with her sister’s short slightly stocky build, her light eyes with her sister’s chocolate-colored irises.

  “We’re as opposite as night and day, aren’t we?” Stacy said.

  “My father was tall and blond, yours short and dark. Mother loved them both. We didn’t get to place an order. I certainly never asked to be six feet tall.”

  “And I never asked for saddlebags. Them’s the breaks, I guess.”

  Chantel glanced at her sister’s curvy figure. “You don’t have saddlebags. I’ve always wanted to be petite, like you.”

  A knock from the front of the cabin interrupted them, and Stacy jumped to her feet. “He’s here!”

  Waving her out of the room, Chantel said, “You go enjoy him. I’m pretty tired after last night. I think I’ll lie down for a while. Which bunk is mine?”

  There were two unmade beds and two that hadn’t been touched. “Take your pick of those,” Stacy said, already on her way out. At the door she turned back. “On second thought, why don’t you meet him before your nap? We may as well get it over with.”

  Chantel cringed at the tone of Stacy’s voice. She sounded as if she’d rather have root-canal work than introduce her sister to her boyfriend, but Chantel threw her shoulders back and took a deep breath.

  Stacy was in love. It was time to meet her sister’s Mr. Right—and to let him know he’d better not so much as throw a friendly smile in her direction.

  Following her sister, she headed into the small cluttered living room, filled with a half-dozen pieces of mismatched furniture surrounding a black fireplace insert. Through the front window overlooking the drive, she caught a glimpse of a white sports utility vehicle. But the sight struck no chord in her until Stacy opened the door, and she saw Dillon Broderick standing on the front porch.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “CHANTEL! WHAT ARE YOU doing here?” Dillon looked from Stacy to Chantel and back again. There were hundreds of cabins in the Tahoe area, and thousands of people came up on any given weekend to ski. What were the chances of running into her again? Not that he was unhappy about it. He’d been thinking about the new woman in his life ever since they’d parted, missing her, already looking forward to calling her. It just wasn’t a pleasant surprise to find Chantel in company with the woman he’d been dating for the past few weeks.

  Stacy’s brows knitted together. “You two know each other?”

  Dillon smiled uncomfortably. “Actually we—”

  “Got in a car accident coming up here,” Chantel cut in, her voice brisk. “We don’t really know each other, just met briefly out in the storm to exchange insurance information.” She shrugged. “I’m sorry about our little fender bender, by the way.”

  Just met briefly out in the storm? After what happened last night? Dillon wasn’t sure how to react. The time he’d spent with Chantel
meant something to him. She meant something to him. At the same time, he’d been dating Stacy for the past few weeks, and while they hadn’t become serious or exclusive or anything, he wasn’t sure exactly what she expected of him.

  “I’m sure the insurance will take care of the Landcruiser,” he said shortly. “How do you two know each other?”

  “Chantel’s my sister,” Stacy replied.

  Dillon wished he could step back into his truck until his head stopped reeling and he could catch his breath. Stacy’s sister? He’d just slept with Stacy’s sister? His gaze flew from Chantel’s elegant fine-boned face, now devoid of color, to Stacy’s pixie cuteness, and he wondered where the family resemblance was. He and Stacy had been friends for two years, but he couldn’t remember her ever having mentioned a sister.

  “It’s cold outside. Come on in and tell me about last night,” Stacy said with a quick welcoming hug.

  Dillon glanced helplessly over Stacy’s head to Chantel, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. Jamming her hands in the pockets of her jeans, she stared at the carpet.

  Stacy hooked an arm through his and pulled him inside. “When Veronica said you’d called and weren’t going to make it, I thought you’d turned back. What’s this accident all about?”

  Normally Dillon didn’t mind Stacy’s demonstrative nature, but today it grated on his nerves. Her touch seemed more familiar, more possessive than he’d noticed before. “It wasn’t a bad one,” he said simply, setting down his large duffel bag. “Is everyone else already on the slopes?”

  “It took them a while to dig out from under the snow, but they’re at Squaw Valley now. I told them we’d meet them after lunch.”

  “Great.” His eyes darted to Chantel again. Her hands were still in her pockets, and she was sidling toward the hallway.

  “I’m going to go blow-dry my hair,” she said before ducking out of the room.

  Dillon tried to keep his gaze from following her, but it was virtually impossible. He was too taken with her after last night. He was too concerned about the revelations of the morning.